Different Obsessions

You can make more friends in two months by becoming interested in other people than you can in two years by trying to get other people interested in you. Dale Carnegie

Odin stared impassively at the figures that passed by Comte Corzano. He enjoyed spending his free time in the restaurant although Marco thought he was a bit mad. Perhaps he was. After all sanity was not a highly rated asset these days it seemed what with children attempting to take over Earth.

Odin stared morosely at his cup of coffee. It was all so monotonous. And always the same go there and kill this person and then go there and steal that thing. Some days he wondered why he bothered to drag his ass out of his townhouse. Corzano certainly did not use his services every day, sometimes he was left to his own devices for up to a week. What else was left to him but to come to Comte Corzano?

"Hey Odin," The bartender came over since the last customer from lunch cleared out. "How're things?"

"Well enough," Odin responded looking at the bottom of the porcelain coffee mug, the coffee now gone.

"Here, let me get you another cup," The bartender Jack offered.

"Thanks Jack," Odin said as Jack went and refilled his mug with warm coffee. "It's been a slow day."

"Somewhat," Jack nodded his head.

They fell into a companionable silence that reminded Odin vaguely of something else but he tried not to think too hard these days. It was a reminder to pull out his bottle of Zeus and take a pill right there in front of Jack. The bartender made a little face but he had long since given up trying to tell Odin that he should not take the stuff.

"Why do you take it?" Jack had once asked him.

"To forget all the death, all the screams and blood," Odin replied somewhat drunk.

"You can't have killed many, not a kid like you," Jack had responded.

"Fuck you," Odin had intoned dully. "What the hell do you know? You don't have to be old to be a killer. You just need a gun and a target."

Jack had looked at him sadly but had shut up which was what Odin had wanted at the time.

It was funny looking back on it. He was a killer but it did not bother him, not the way it used to. Zeus helped with things like that, took away the sharp edges of his world. Odin looked up to see Jack studying him intently.

"You need to get out of here for a while I think," Jack declared. "Go do something fun for a change."

"Fun," Odin repeated the word dryly.

He drained the rest of his coffee and slid the empty cup to Jack as he stood.

"I'll see you later," Odin said stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets.

"You'd better be back for dinner," Jack told him as he exited the restaurant.

Odin merely waved a hand behind himself and was gone out on the streets.

He walked aimlessly about, heading into the poorer and more rundown parts of New York City, places he had not been unless on assignment. It intrigued him that such filth could exist in a place that had so many tourists and so many people spouting the city's praises. The seediness of the place fascinated him. He was not at all uncomfortable by the rundown buildings and the many myriads of people he saw slouching around. Not even the prostitutes managed to get much of a reaction out of him.

Odin ended up in a high-end prostitute area. He looked around studying the faces of the many girls and boys leaning casually against the walls. One young man caught his attention in particular. He was pale with blond hair and piercing gray eyes. He was smoking a cigarette.

For some reason unknown to Odin he walked up to the young man and leaned on the wall next to him.

"What can I do for you?" The young man asked blowing out some smoke as he glanced over at Odin through long lashes. "Fancy a quick blow around the corner?"

"What's your name?" Odin asked.

"Drake," The boy took a deep drag on his cigarette.

"I'm Odin," Odin introduced himself. "What are the rates?"

"It's ten credits for a blow," Drake rattled off the prices from memory. "Twenty for a fuck but you need to use a condom. And charging for the hour is thirty credits for the first hour and ten additional after that."

"Does it have to involve just sex?" Odin asked.

Drake blinked at him in confusion.

"What else is there?" He flicked the ash off the end of his cigarette. "I'm a whore not an escort."

"I need someone to hang out with occasionally," Odin told the blond. "My boss and his other employees say I don't get out enough."

Drake laughed at this. A few of the other whores turned to look at the pair for a few moments before looking out for potential customers and ignoring them.

"You're serious," Drake said stubbing out his cigarette. "Who's your boss?"

"Corzano," Odin said the name easily.

"The mafia don himself," Drake let out a whistle. "What do you do for him?"

"Whatever he tells me," Odin replied blandly.

"You're certainly very literal minded aren't you?" Drake smirked. "Tell you what; I finish up here in three hours. Why don't I meet you at Comte Corzano then and you can buy me coffee. We can chat and see if there's any way we could become friends? How does that suit you?"

"That suits just fine," Odin nodded. "Do you wish to meet in four hours at Comte Corzano?"

"Four hours is just fine," Drake said with a smile. "See you later Odin."

"See you Drake," Odin said.

He walked away from the young man and headed off a few blocks before calling a cab. He had himself dropped off at the townhouse.

Drake was right though. He was very literal minded, almost obsessive about following orders. But it was that obsessive ness was what made him so damn valuable to Corzano and he was not about to tarnish his record now. If the boss said he needed a friend he would make one. Being a little social and having a little fun never hurt anyone and he did not see why he should be all about work.

Odin took a long shower and got out wrapping a towel around his slim hips. He poured himself a shot of whiskey and downed it in one go. He liked the stuff now, it warmed him going down. Sometimes he wondered why he even bothered with a glass when he could drink straight from the bottle. But his sense of control would not let him, there needed to be a glass because it was right.

He dressed casually and took a taxi to Comte Corzano. He was twenty minutes early and he procured his usual booth in the reserved section. Odin waved Jack away and told him to set another place on the table, that he was expecting company. Jack gave him a look but set the extra place setting on the table. Odin waited.

Drake came in right on time. He was dressed differently in normal looking clothes, not the revealing shirt with leather pants. It was a change and Odin was glad to see that Drake was taking his suggestion seriously.

"Hey Odin," Drake said coming up to him.

"Drake," Odin inclined his head as Drake slid into the booth opposite his own. "You're on time."

"You seemed like the literal type," Drake shrugged his shoulders as though it explained everything.

Odin let Drake order from the menu and he told Jack he would have his usual for that evening. Jack brought Odin his coffee and Drake his beer.

"I thought you were going to have coffee?" Odin asked.

"I changed my mind," Drake shrugged again. "So what do you do in your spare time?"

"Hang out here," Odin said. "Or I go on walks or go see movies."

"I'd hang out here if I could afford it too," Drake looked around at the ambiance. "It's tasteful here. Movies are always good, even the bad ones. It's an escape from the simple monotony."

They talked over several other topics during the next few hours. Drake proved to have an intelligent mind. At the end of the evening Odin paid for a taxi to take Drake back to his apartment while Odin got another to his townhouse. Things did not seem so monotonous anymore and Zeus was no longer the only thing he needed to get through his weeks of boredom.